by Ian Woodhead
Billy saw the man’s hand casually drift down towards the back of his jeans. He wasn’t a fool; Billy knew exactly what the minder had stashed there. He snapped his arm forward and this time, Billy wrapped his fingers around Craig’s throat. He did not intend for this fool to cut short his interesting future by having a pig sticker shoved through Billy’s eyeball.
From the corner of his eye, he spied the other minder, slide off the wall. “Don’t even entertain the thought of coming to Craig’s assistance.”
“I wasn’t, Sir…”
“Don’t you fucking lie to me! Is it not bad enough that I have one Judas in my midst?” Billy turned his attention back to Craig who appeared to be having a little difficulty in breathing. Billy could sympathise, only last week, he had a horrible sore throat, not even his old gran’s hot honey recipe got rid of it.
He eased a grip ever so slightly, just to show that despite Craig’s obvious traitorous actions, his employer was willing to show him a little compassion.
“Now, Craig. Have you washed away all those naughty thoughts yet?”
“Sir?”
Billy spun around, “This had better be fucking good!” he growled.
Jacob nodded then pointed beyond the low wall, “Sir, we’ve got some company approaching.”
Billy dragged the minder over and looked down. “Shit, so we have.”
A group of the dead were following a terrified teenage girl up the grass embankment. Those things had been dead for some time, Billy had trouble working out how they could still be moving, let alone have enough sense to locate and chase their prey. The girl abruptly took her eyes off her pursuers, saw the three men and almost lost her balance.
“Help me!” she cried.
“Jacob? How many of those rotting cadavers can you see?”
“There’s twelve, sir. Shouldn’t we be helping her?”
Billy released the other minder who fell to his knees clutching his throat and trying to cough.
“Did you hear that, Craig?” he asked, crouching down. “Twelve dead things moving very slowly. Look at her, a healthy young girl like that could easily evade their clumsy movements and yet those things are closing in on her even as we speak. Just like you, Craig, she refuses to believe the reality of the situation. Now, that sort of thinking is expected for a civilian but you are a cold-hearted killer.” He paused, “at least I thought you were.”
Billy stood up and snatched Jacob’s pistol out of the man’s hands. He targeted the two closest corpses to the sobbing girl and demolished their faces with two shots. Billy dropped the smoking gun back into Jacob’s hands.
“Craig, just this once, I’ll forget your disgraceful indiscretion. It’s been a difficult few hours and just like that girl down there you too have refused to accept the reality.”
He scooped up Craig’s dropped handgun and thrust it into the minder’s hands. “There are five left each, gentlemen. Head shots only please. Once they’re on the ground, bring that girl to me.”
He slowly wandered back to the van, smiling to himself as the cracks of gunfire shattered the silence. A few moments later, Jacob approached Billy, carrying the dazed girl in his arms. Craig stayed at a respectful distance.
He leaned towards her, “Are you okay, sweetie?” he asked, smiling. “There’s nothing to worry about now. My friends have stopped all those bad men.”
Jacob gently put her down, keeping hold of the girl’s hand.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“It’s the least I could do. My name is Billy; I hope we will be friends. What are you called?” He laughed, “It seems a bit silly to call you sweetie all the time.”
He watched the big man, run his fingers through the girl’s hair; Billy guessed that the girl must be in too much of a shock to notice.
“Andrea Ellis.” She replied.
He nodded, Jacob had formed an attachment to the girl, his reverent and protective stance really was quite touching. Billy watched Craig trying not to smirk, he’d noticed it too. Andrea couldn’t have been more then fourteen, an age bracket more associated with favourite ex dealer’s deviant behaviour. Even so, Billy intended to make good use of this unexpected bonus.
He kneeled down in front of the girl. “Do you live round here, Andrea?”
“My dad owns a dairy farm, just over a mile from here.”
Amazing, she said that with hardly a quiver in her voice. Kids adapted so quickly. “I’m sure that your parents must be worried sick. Do you want us to give you a lift home?” He smiled, just to make sure that no more bad guys come after you.”
He stood up and nodded at the other minder. “Craig, be a darling and just pop our guest in the back of the van.”
Billy looked down at the girl’s fingers buried in Jacob’s huge hand. The minder understood the message and let her go. He waited until they were both out of range before speaking.
“Jacob, I need to know every single detail about that village, make sure she tells it all. I don’t care how you retrieve the information as long as you’re quick about it. Once you’ve cleaned her out, you may do whatever you like to the lovely Andrea.”
It warmed Billy’s heart to watch the minder moan with pleasure.
“Consider this my gift to you, for staying loyal. Just ensure that the girl dies after you’ve had your fun and makes sure she stays fucking dead.”
Jacob grinned and rushed to the back of the van. Billy grabbed another cigar from the cab and wandered over to the low wall, he gazed down at the village. He knew that he would enjoy his stay in Seeton.
Chapter Nineteen
This was one thing that he didn’t expect, Dean jumped as the pub doors slammed shut behind him, the silence made the sound even louder. He looked around the deserted lounge of the Rose and Crown, not seeing a single soul.
He padded over to the bar, wondering if the pub had yet to open. This was too strange for words. This place was the hub of the community, even as a teen, the Rose and Crown was always packed out on a night and for much of the day too. The closest pub was over five miles away.
“Is there anybody here?”
This was just ridiculous, was this help yourself tonight or something? He let out a heavy sigh; Dean really could not do with this hassle. Where the hell was that stupid bartender?
It was as everyone in the entire village had all done a runner. He’d seen nobody on his journey into the centre, Dean had also noticed a disturbingly large amount of boarded up shops, including the pet shop. He was at a loss at what he could do now. He couldn’t continue without the help of another small animal.
He leaned back against the bar and considered just what choices he could make now, short of breaking into the pet shop and making off with one of their animals, he was at a loss. Dean sighed heavily and gazed into the open fireplace at the far side of the lounge. The sound of crackling wood and the low flickering flames enhanced the old world charm of the pub. This type of pub did not exist back in London, not for at least fifty years anyway. Strange how he’d never really taken much notice of the fire until now, not surprising, considering on every other occasion, the Rose and Crown was full to the brim of Seeton’s finest.
Half a dozen small framed pictures hung above the mantelpiece, each one depicting various rural scenes of Seeton from decades ago. It didn’t astonish Dean to discover images of cows in four of the pictures. He then grinned to himself, maybe he ought go out into one of the fields and bag himself a cow? Seeton had more cows than people. Getting in the first injection wouldn’t be too difficult, those big dumb things were used to people.
He once remembered getting a right bollocking off Ken Ellis when he caught him and Tom in the act of cow tipping. He never did find out just what the farmer was doing hiding behind a wall at four in the morning.
The problem would arise with attempting to administer the second injection after the original solution had killed the animal then brought it back to some resemblance of life. Dean tried to imagine a half-ton animal a
cting like that little gerbil and threw away his idea with contempt. Without a rifle to administer the second solution, it would be the equivalent of sneaking up on a ravenous polar bear to give it a kiss.
“Way too large.” He muttered.
“Can I help you, mate?”
Dean’s throat almost ejected his insides; he spun around, trying to regain his composure. Judging by the huge grin plastered across the blond youth’s acne ridden face, Dean guessed the kid found the whole situation terribly amusing.
“Sorry about that, mate. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
He didn’t look sorry at all. After looking at the boy’s well-muscled arms planted on the bar’s surface, decided not to make an issue out of it.
“I’ll have a pint of that, please,” he said, pointing to one of the pumps. He’d never heard of the make before, not that it mattered. He’d only come in here to see if he could find the owner of that pet shop. After his little scare, he felt he needed something to calm his nerves.
As the young man drew his pint, Dean looked past his bulky body and through the open door behind the bar. The room beyond had been furnished in the same style as the pub the only difference was the large amount of electronic equipment scattered around the maroon room. He then saw what the young man must have been watching and attempted not to smirk. It appeared that the barman had a passion for old cartoons. Dean watched Jerry run along the top of a curtain rail, being chased by a very upset Tom. Dean then saw another cat, curled up asleep on a rocking chair beside the television.
A cat would be just perfect for his needs. There must be dozen’s of felines skulking around the village, maybe he should purchase a tin of cat food and try to lure one back to the house.
“Here you go.”
Dean nodded and handed the man a ten-pound note. He took a sip of his drink trying to remember if his dad’s neighbour’s had any cats. It seemed to be his only viable option, apart from using a cow, what other choice did he have?
“Where is everyone by the way? Is it normally this quiet?”
The barman thrust Dean’s change into his open palm; he got the impression that Dean’s company was not welcome in here.
“They’re having some sort of meeting over at the village hall. He nodded over to the tap room, “One of our rooms is occupied so some fucker had to stay behind to keep an eye on the place.”
Dean looked across at the other room, through the small window in the door; he saw the back of a blonde head, so he wasn’t as alone as he first thought.
“Do you think you’ll be needing anything else? Only, I’ve got some collage work to catch up on.”
Dean shook his head, wondering if this big oaf had realised that he’d left his television on.
“Right,” he mumbled before turning and marching back into the room, he slammed the door behind him.
“What a charming young man.”
He brought the glass to his lips and took another swallow. He pulled a face this stuff was bloody horrible. Dean placed the half full glass back on the bar and headed for the main door. As he grabbed the handle the door to the tap room swung open and a young woman ran out and raced over to Dean.
“What the hell?”
The terrified looking girl collided into Dean and grabbed his shoulders. “Please help me!” she said looking into his eyes.
He blinked in astonishment; this was the same girl that he met on the train. He couldn’t get over her drastic change. A petite rather gorgeous young blonde had replaced that foul smelling vagrant who gave his all that abuse on the train earlier.
“Miss, what’s wrong?”
She just turned her head and pointed at another man leaning against the doorframe. His smiling face held about the same amount of contempt as that barman. The only difference was that this man didn’t have the barman’s toned body to back up his threat.
“This ain’t got nothing to do with you, stranger. Best idea, mate is turn back around and get yourself gone.”
Dean had always considered Seeton to be such a friendly village when he’d been growing up here. Strangers may not have been always welcome but they were certainly treated with a curious amount of respect.
He untangled the girl and slowly approached this arrogant pensioner. He’d had just about enough of Seeton’s older generation today. He was trying to save them for crying out loud.
“Maybe you should be the one to make like a tree.” He growled. Dean stared at him, hoping that the barman wouldn’t choose this moment to make an appearance. He knew whose side the gorilla would take and it wouldn’t be Dean’s.
“This has got nothing to do with you; we don’t tolerate strangers causing trouble in Seeton.”
Dean felt a smile creeping up his face as he realised exactly who’d been threatening him. “Oh my god, it looks like the dirty old man really has turned into a dirty old man.”
Dean laughed, as the man eventually recognised him as well.
“Oh, there we go. The light dawns, now about that tree we were talking about.”
“I ain’t going anywhere, Dean Kasnovski.”
“Yes, you fucking are. Do you not remember what me and Gavin did to you when we found out about you touching up Sarah?”
He heard the girl behind him gasp.
“Those twenty years haven’t been kind to you have they, Albert Hudson? I reckon that another good kicking would just about finish you off.”
The old man pushed past him, glared at the girl then stormed out of the pub. He turned around suddenly needing to down his discarded pint.
“Are you alright, Miss?”
She shook her head; “I don’t think I am no.” she padded over to a padded seat and collapsed into it.
Dean picked up his pint, drank half of it down then took a seat opposite the girl. “I’m Dean, by the way.”
She looked up, I know. I heard the teacher say your name.”
“Oh, okay. I hope you didn’t mind me intruding there.” This girl looked so familiar, yet for all his effort, Dean just could not place her face.
“I thought he was dead, I even saw the gravestone. Didn’t know he had a brother did I? My heart almost stopped when the creep spotted me across the bar ten minutes ago. He even licked his lips.”
It didn’t take a genius to work out what that diseased pervert must have done to the poor girl. She looked a bit too old to be still at school though. Whatever happened must have been some time ago. Oh, fuck! The chances were that Hudson had continued to go about his disgusting ways, despite having the shit kicked out of him.
He looked at the door and then back at the girl, he really ought to be getting back; he shouldn’t be getting involved with anyone else’s problems.
“Do you want a drink or something?” he said. Shit, where did that come from? The words just seemed to spurt out of their own accord.
She finally took her eyes off the battered mahogany table. She reached across the surface and took hold of one of Dean’s hand. “That’s very sweet of you, Dean.” She said, wiping the tears from her face with her other hand. “If you don’t mind though, I think that I’d rather go for a walk instead.”
The girl then smiled, “I’m Alison, by the way.”
The name brought his recall to a crashing halt, “You mean you’re Sarah’s baby sister? My god! You were still in your nappies, the last time I saw you.” He still found it hard to believe that this girl was the same one from the train.
She stood up, glancing nervously at the bar. “Come on, take me somewhere else.”
He followed her gaze and saw the barman glaring at the pair of them, the gym teacher stood beside the big man, smiling.
“This man would like a word with you, Dean; it’s about you and your friend assaulting his father.”
Dean watched in horror as the barman leaped onto the bar’s surface, the girl screamed and dragged Dean towards the doors with the barman right behind them. Dean grabbed his drink has he passed and hurtled the glass at the snarling man. He manage
d to dodge out of its way but his pause allowed them to push through the doors before he could grab them.
“What do we do now?” she asked.
Dean looked back and watched the huge man and the gym teacher emerge into the warn night air. “We get the hell away from here!”
Chapter Twenty
Emma Chatsworth leaned forward and stretched the muscles in her back. She had pulled something there.
“That’s what you get for going up and down a stepladder at your age, you silly moo.”
She’d get her Jack to give it a rub when he got back. Emma sat back in her favourite chair, trying to remember where she’d put that tube of Deep-Heat.
She gazed out of the bedroom window onto the now quiet high street. Emma had moved the chair closer to the window, a few minutes ago to watch all the ruckus down below. What a performance, all that running and screaming about, those folk ought to be ashamed of themselves, they must have been strangers, the local wouldn’t act in that disgraceful manner. The street was now quiet. Emma nodded to herself, that’s how it should be. Folk at this time ought to be in their houses, getting ready for bed.
That Elsie down at the Rose and Crown must be coining it in. With all her rooms full and with the extra beer money going into her cash register, that woman will be laughing all the way to the bank.
“She’d better spend some of it in here, that’s all I can say.”
It wasn’t just her back that ached; all that movement from climbing those steps had opened the cut in her ankle. It did seem like a daft idea at the time to tape sheets of newspaper over her windows, but Anne had been quite adamant that it had to be done.
